the view from my precarious perch

My postcard poem for day two

I based a poem on a detail from this painting by El Greco, titled ‘La Sagrada Familia.’ The postcard shows only Mary’s face.

Detail of La Sagrada Familia
after El Greco

What you see is my face
below a psychedelic nimbus,
hair held in place under a lace mantilla,
eyes downcast, skin like cream,
lips and robes stained
the color of ripe berries.

What you don’t see is the infant
held to my breast, his fingers
entwined with mine.
I wish I could show him to you,
but he’s been cropped from my story;
he’s soil, cosmic dust, words on a page.

***
I hope no one takes this poem as sacrilegious, although I suppose there’s no way around that it is. I’m thinking of how Mary would feel, having her son taken from her. If I were Mary, and very bitter, I might feel this way.

Like this:

Published by Christine

Christine Swint’s poems have appeared in Calyx, Birmingham Poetry Review, Slant, a Journal of Poetry, Tampa Review, Heron Tree, Ekphrasis, and others. Her poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best New Poets, and she has won first place prizes from the Georgia Poetry Society and Agnes Scott College. Her first collection, Swimming This, was published in 2015 by FutureCycle Press. She teaches first-year composition at a metro-Atlanta university and writes about poetry, art, hiking, and yoga at Balanced on the Edge, https://balancedonedge.blog
Twitter @christine_swint
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10 thoughts on “My postcard poem for day two”

Fantastic, Christine. Absolutely beautiful. I don’t see it as sacrilegious. Mary was a human being, and you have portrayed that here so beautifully. She was a special human, but she was human nonetheless. I have thought about the same thing, too. As a mother, it would kill me.

Your details in the poem are awesome…psychedelic nimbus, skin like cream, lips and robes the color of berries. The last stanza is so powerful and makes me want to cry for Mary.

Thanks for reading! And for the encouraging words. There’s something about a deadline that gets me writing, or a challenge, like this postcard poetry thing. I’ve found all these cards in boxes from when I traveled to Spain. I love El Greco, he’s one of my favorite painters.